


your pants look great on you but seriously just fucking take them off already

by ymirjotunn



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, PWP, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:29:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ymirjotunn/pseuds/ymirjotunn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin won't take off his fucking pants and Michael wants to know what's up with that. (Spoilers: tentacles.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	your pants look great on you but seriously just fucking take them off already

**Author's Note:**

> For RT Secret Santa 2013 (thegrinningcrow's wishlist) - prompt was consensual tentacle porn and that is so my jam.
> 
> More Michael and Gavin, because I'm absolutely in control of what I write. Absolutely.
> 
> Gonna be honest, I totally stole 'wiggly' from callmearcturus's [an old fashioned notion](http://archiveofourown.org/works/826875) which is super super well done and I highly recommend it to anyone, ever, always.

They were kissing, spread out on top of each other on the couch, Halo 4 playing as their background music, and Michael was just about grinding his hips into Gavin's thigh when Gav pulled away, mouth pretty and red and kiss-swollen, shook his head.  
  
"Can't," he said once he caught his breath, and Michael sat up, scowling.  
  
"Okay," he said, reaching over to turn off the TV. Meant business. "I think we need to talk. Not in the 'oh fuck he's breaking up with me' way, keep your panties on."  
  
Gavin offered an uneasy smile. "Briefs, actually."  
  
"Besides the point!" Michael poked him in the chest. "You know me, Gavino. I am not a patient guy. And I fuckin' adore you, but at some point blue balls get the best of anyone. Why is it you don't want to take off your pants?" He'd seen him shirtless before, but no pants? No go.  
  
"Er," Gavin mumbled.  
  
"Is it the balls thing?" He wasn't patient, but he was blunt. "Gav. I don't care if you have a scar on your balls, Jesus, I'll still totally suck you off."  
  
Gavin flinched a little. "No, no, it's not--"  
  
"What is it, then?" Michael lay back down on top of him, hands rubbing absentmindedly at Gavin's hips. "It's okay, boy. I got you. You can tell me anything, okay? Swear."  
  
Gavin swallowed, audibly. "Can I...uh, can I show you anything?"  
  
Michael rolled his eyes. "Yeah, obviously."  
  
He sat up, nearly knocking Michael backwards. "Okay," he said, face so red Michael could've mistaken it for a tomato. "Promise not to freak out."  
  
"Uh, yeah, I promise," Michael said, raising an eyebrow. "Chill your tits, Gav, just show me."  
  
Gavin gave him a dirty look. "This is serious to me. Don't be an arse."  
  
Michael raised his hands. "I won't! I won't. Go ahead."  
  
Gavin took a deep breath, shivered like it hurt him to do this, and undid his jeans ("trousers", he'd insist to Michael) at an agonizingly slow speed. Still, Michael was in Tolerant Boyfriend mode, so he just breathed steadily and kept his eyes on Gavin.  
  
He wasn't lying, about the briefs. They were navy blue, fit him well, and Michael licked his lips, not even entirely on purpose.  
  
And then he pulled down his briefs, fingers hooked into the waistband, and Michael's mouth fell open, a little bit.  
  
"Well, uh," Gavin said finally, hopelessly. "Sorry. I can, um, if you get up off my legs I can be off--"  
  
"Shut it," Michael said, a little forcefully. "Can I see them a little better?"  
  
Gavin boggled at him. "Erm?"  
  
"They're all curled up. I want to see them properly." He looked up at Gav. "I can, right?"  
  
Gavin blinked. "Here, up off me a mo', so I can get my pants off." He looked so confused. Poor lad. When was the last time he'd let someone else see him like this? When was the last time he'd gotten laid, for fuck's sake? Michael rolled off of him, watching his face to make sure he was still okay.  
  
He stood up and slipped off his pants, and worked a few shaking fingers around them, and Michael marveled.  
  
He had a little cluster of tentacles down there. With this sort of purplish sheen, the same lavender slick coating wherever they brushed, and surrounded by maybe a dozen little ones was one bigger one. It had wrapped around his wrist like it was greedy for touch, and it must've been sensitive because Gavin was biting his lip just from that.  
  
"You are fucking _exquisite_ ," Michael said finally.  
  
"You're just saying that," Gavin said, shaky, and Michael could tell he was panicking. Couldn't he see the look on his face? Couldn't he see that he fucking _had_ Michael, so undeniably it was almost ridiculous?  
  
"Come here and I'll show you I mean it," Michael said, grinning, holding out his hands. He could see the beginnings of a maybe-hopeful smile on Gav's face. "Where'd you get those pretty things?"  
  
"Had them all my life," Gavin said, settling down on his lap. He was still tense, but it wasn't as bad now. "They're, y'know, my wigglys."  
  
Michael laughed. "That's cute. They're cute. _You're_ cute, goddamn." He kissed Gavin, to distract him as his hand wove around a few tendrils. They were so damn soft, so delicate, they were almost ethereal.  
  
Gavin had hissed a little when he made contact, but it sounded like he felt good, so Michael brought his other hand down, to work its way into the cluster. "Tell me if it's not okay," he mumbled into Gavin's mouth, and got a murmur of agreement, so he leaned into it a little, looking down to try and memorize the way their little tips looked poking out between his fingers.  
  
"They're so curious," he said, wonderingly. "Tell me about them."  
  
"They, ah," Gavin said, tipping his head back into Michael's shoulder. "'ve never...'s been years since anybody but me touched 'em. Feels good." He was almost moaning his vowels and Michael loved, fucking loved, that he could make him come apart like that.  
  
"Yeah? Has anyone?"  
  
"Mmh. Girlfriend of mine in, uh, high school. Junior year. Had a fetish." Gavin snorted. "I'm not a fan that they've all got to have fetishes to deal with them, but y'know. You take what you can get, I guess?" He stopped, and the silence hung heavy, even as the bigger tentacle was wrapping its way around Michael's wrist, all eager.  
  
"You wanna know if I have a fetish for your wigglys," Michael said finally.  
  
"Yeah," Gavin said, relieved. Michael was a damn good interpreter.  
  
He kissed the back of Gavin's neck, nuzzling into the peach fuzz back there. "Nah. Seen some hentai once or twice, but I've never had a tentacle fetish. I mean, I've got a Gavin Free fetish, so that's sort of--you know, overarching. I'd wanna fuck you no matter what."  
  
"If I were a girl?"  
  
"Hell yeah. You'd have gorgeous tits, don't deny." Michael illustrated this point by giving the biggest wiggly a gentle squeeze, and Gavin's breath caught in his throat, so lovely.  
  
"If I were...an enormous elephant."  
  
Michael laughed and kissed the back of his neck again. "Yeah, sure. We'd have to figure out how to rig me up to your enormous ass, though."  
  
He could feel Gavin really relaxing now. "A millipede?"  
  
"Do millipedes have asses?"  
  
"Dunno," Gavin said thoughtfully. "I could--"  
  
"You are _not_ going to check if millipedes have asses on Wikipedia while I am giving you a wigglyjob," Michael snorted into his ear like an asshole, feeling out how the tentacles curled up around his wrist, curious about the new flavor of skin. "Are they always this, like, exploratory?"  
  
"Uh," Gavin said, blinking up at him. "How'm I supposed to know? My first time when some girl isn't frantically humping them, innit?"  
  
Michael laughed hard. "Holy fuck, she--what'd she do, just sit down on you and rub up against you til she got tired?"  
  
"Yeah, basically," Gavin said, looking vaguely ill. "Come on, little boy, I know they're tiny and soft but you can be a lot less gentle."  
  
"Yeah?" Michael scooted down until he could put his head on Gavin's thigh. "How about this?"  
  
He'd gone white. "Don't bite them off," he croaked. "They're _sensi_ \--"  
  
Michael had taken the tip of the longest one into his mouth, suckling, and Gavin was moaning like a textbook porn star. Michael managed to tilt his head back a little, so he could watch. Fuck, was he pretty. Pretty like Michael wanted to punch him and fuck him both at the same time, and he was positive something like that could be worked out eventually, but for now this was more important.  
  
He buried his nose into the cluster and they happily surrounded his face, painting trails of sticky lavender down his cheeks, a few greedier ones worming into his mouth, and he helped them out, working his free hands into the few that couldn't quite get a grip. He could feel Gavin's thighs shaking on either side of him and it was like...like the first time he'd eaten a girl out, probably, but a thousand times better, maybe, with all the movement and the way Gavin was practically humming.  
  
His knee sort of jostled into Michael's back and he started laughing into the mess of tentacles, breath warming their bases, and Gavin came with a shudder, some sweet taste flooding Michael's tongue. He swallowed; it was like, like cream soda. _Jesus_.  
  
"Michael," Gavin was mumbling, so red-faced and undone that Michael couldn't help but laugh, lick away a bit of the lavender on his lips. "Lemme do you, little boy."  
  
Michael raised his eyebrows. "Do me? You don't look like you could get those in me."  
  
Gavin sat up, flushing harder. "No, no, meant--meant get you off. C'mere." He reached out, wigglys making a come-hither gesture at him. Michael wasn't even sure if Gavin knew they were doing that, but Christ, it was cute.  
  
Michael shook his head at him, just fondly, but he scooted up close, and then he figured out what Gavin was talking about and _God_ , fucking _hell_ yeah, his wigglys were all wrapped around his cock except for a few stroking between his thighs, teasing him even though he (and they) both knew very well that they wouldn't be able to push into his ass, and holy hell, he felt like an idiot but he was moaning up into Gavin's fucking carpeted chest, coming undone like Gavin had only a few seconds ago.  
  
"Dickie bitch," he mumbled, and Gavin only laughed, wrapping arms around his back and pulling him in closer. His longest wiggly teased at Michael's balls, at his head, was everywhere, fucking everywhere, and Michael was gone, so gone. Gavin was probably cheating to be this good at sex, if he'd never done it before like this. Fucking _dammit_. (He only felt a little inept, just a little.)  
  
Michael came, all over his chest, and pulled back supremely embarrassed, because what kind of stamina even was that, but Gavin just scooped a finger's worth of cum off of his stupid unshaven chest and sucked on it, thoughtful.  
  
He pulled a face. "Your cum tastes like, like something they'd bottle up and put in a medicine cabinet," he said, his nose all stupid-wrinkled up. "Yuck."  
  
"Nobody said you had to eat it, dickwad," Michael said, laughing at him and at his wigglys, all splayed out over his thighs like they were exhausted.  
  
"Well, mine tastes good!" Gavin looked actually offended.  
  
"You've--are you serious?"  
  
"Well, yeah! Haven't you?"  
  
"Gav. Gav, baby," Michael said, collapsing into laughter again, curling up against his thighs, post-orgasm sleepiness hitting him hard. "Not everyone can pull off the whole auto-fellatio thing, okay. Sleep."  
  
"I can't pull off the auto-fellatio, I've tried, it just gets all over your hands when you, you know," Gavin tried to explain, but Michael whacked his shoulder, semi-pissily.  
  
"Said sleep," he mumbled, moving a leg over onto Gavin's.  
  
"I'm still all dirty and gross!"  
  
"Whose fault is that? Sticky crotch boy." He pinched Gavin's hip and it earned him a tiny shriek. "Wow, Gav, don't blow out my eardrums or anything."  
  
"Will you take a shower with me, later, though," Gavin mumbled, nestling his nose into Michael's hair.  
  
Michael sighed, overdramatic. "Do you even have to _ask_."  
  
"Well, yeah, think so! It's called common courtesy--"  
  
"That's a yes, moron."  
  
"Oh," Gavin said, quieting. "Well. Right, then. Sleep."  
  
"That's a boy," Michael said, reaching down to squeeze his biggest wiggly, and Gavin shrieked again, and Michael laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  
  
"Michael," Gavin mumbled, just as Michael was about to fall asleep.  
  
"What."  
  
"You--uh, I can take my pants off more often, probably."  
  
"You fucking bet you can," Michael said, too asleep to know what he was saying, but it wasn't like he was going to regret it.


End file.
